don't you dare fall in love without me
by charbrose
Summary: "baby, i'm gonna be so good to you, you'll never let me go," the smooth pitch of her voice was all sass and seduction, but he didn't get attached to anyone or anything. until her. {roman reigns/nikki bella, pretty woman au}
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: this fic was inspired by one of my favorite movies of all time pretty woman starring julia roberts and richard gere and also beyonce`'s remix of 'crazy in love' that was used in the 50 shades of gray trailer. neither of those two things belong to me just like nikki bella and roman reigns don't belong to me._

* * *

**~*~don't you dare fall in love without me~*~**

**pairing: roman reigns/nikki bella**

**summary: "baby, i'm gonna be so good to you, you'll never let me go," the smooth pitch of her voice was all sass and seduction, but he didn't get attached to anyone or anything. until her. {roman reigns/nikki bella, pretty woman au}**

**rating: m**

* * *

**~*~chapter one~*~**

Nikki's stomach churned violently as she went through the robotic motions of swiping her signature fire engine red lipstick across her plump lips. She _swore _she could still feel Heyman's slimy, pudgy fingers sliding down the slope of her neck, his creepy beady eyes dark with lust.

Bile rose in her throat that was quickly tightening like a vice.

"_Either way, Miss Bella,_" There was Heyman's voice in her ear. _"I will be seeing the money you owe me for renting the lovely abode you share with Miss Lynn. There's the easy way; getting on your knees here and now or the hard way, trolling Sunset Boulevard and hoping some desperate loser tosses you $500 for a ride."_

The urge to pull her hair out by the roots ran strong through her veins, but that wouldn't solve her problems. No one – not even the freakiest of the freaky – would pay to fuck a bald hooker.

"Damn it!" She cursed, flinging the tube of lipstick onto the grungy tile of the apartment's – lovely abode her ass! - bathroom floor.

Just then her phone – an iPhone three and hopelessly out of date, but the one luxury she could afford – began to buzz along to Beyonce`'s _"Naughty Girl_," which was Cameron's ring tone and she sighed heavily. Sliding her thumb across the green 'connect' button, her anger and frustration cooled immediately when her friend's distressed tone reached her ears.

"Nikki, I am so sorry! I had the rent money for Heyman _in _my hands and I was halfway inside the building when..." A shaky breath came through the phone and then a hiccup as Cameron's normally chipper tone broke down in to sobs. "Vinnie... He just showed up and pinned me against the wall and he started talking about how the money I was going to give Heyman was _his_ money, that I wouldn't have earned a penny of it without him and he... He..." Now there was only sobbing and Nikki could see the other girl's slender frame shaking violently as her mascara ran down the apples of her caramel cheeks, and once again bile was coating her tongue.

"Stop it," Her voice was warm and tender. "I'm not mad, Cammie, I swear. I can take care of that asshole Heyman and get us the money we need. Just calm down and then get here as soon as you can..."

"You shouldn't _have _to take care of Heyman! Or get us the money! It's my fault, we're late with the rent! If I had just listened to you when you told me Vinnie was bad news, none of this would have happened. I can turn on the charm, too, Nik. Lemme go at Heyman. I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand in two seconds."

"No way, am I letting you do that! Heyman's _the skeeziest_ of the skeezes. If you do this for him once, he'll have you on your knees every five seconds cause he has you by the tits. No way, girlie, I got this. Like I said, calm down and then get back here as soon as you can. There's one more pack of Ramen left with your name on it. And Cammie," Her voice wasn't warm and tender any more, it was deadly calm. "You leave Vinnie to me. I'm gonna make sure he _never _puts his hands on you again."

Hanging up, Nikki picked up the discarded tube of lipstick and returned to looking in the bathroom mirror. She ran her fingers through her luminous chocolate curls, briefly admiring the way they tumbled down her shoulders while thanking God the electricity was still on so she could curl her normally straight locks.

Turning from side to side, she grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting the shirt she wore down the center into a v-neck, exposing more of her ample breasts.

Then she grabbed her bag, briefly checking to make sure everything she needed was inside, and made her way toward Sunset Boulevard.

* * *

Roman _knew_ he should've listened to Matt. At least this one time. But he never listened before, so why start now? As the car continued to sputter and stall down Sunset Boulevard, he cursed under his breath while one of his fists pounded at the steering wheel, as if that would solve the sputtering and the stalling.

He could have grabbed the Maserati, his personal favorite from the garage. But noooooooo... There was Daddy's pride and joy, the classic 1965 gun metal grey Lamborghini, just sitting there – shiny and gorgeous – begging to be driven, and really _how _hard was driving a stick shift, anyway?

He graduated at the top of his class at Harvard Business school and was Magna Cum Laude at Georgia Tech before that. He could drive a fucking car. Driving a car was not rocket science.

Briefly, he eyed, his cell phone laying across the passenger seat, but that only made him pound the steering wheel harder while his other hand tightened around the leather. Calling Matt would only lead to his cocky "i told you so baby brother," which would lead to a lecture from their father and the youngest of the four Reigns children was not in the mood for a lecture.

* * *

Gears pushing and grinding against each other made Nikki cringe. She was making her way down Sunset Boulevard, swaying her hips just so, when she saw it... A classic 1960s Lambo, gun metal grey, sputtering and stalling in a most pathetic fashion.

Her stomach dropped to her feet, the car had _Sugar Daddy_ written all over it, and that meant it was time for her to turn on the charm. To arch her back so the girls were on full display. Lean in at the right angle so her lips – plump and red – were right in their line of sight. Get herself breathless and her tone husky. Reach out to run her fingers up and down their arm and then seal the deal.

Cause she was _not _going without electricity for the third time in four months. Fuck that shit.

As it drove – well, more like churned, honestly – past her, she fought the bile coating her tongue as the window rolled down and slowly {forcefully}, her lips curled sweetly, "Hey, baby," She crooned, sex coating every letter. "You look like you could use some help."

He wasn't the usual type and in another universe, she would have swooned because holy fuck this guy was gorgeous! He had chiseled features, beautiful grey eyes that were a contrast to caramel skin, a neatly trimmed goatee and criminally plush lips.

For once, licking her lips wasn't for show.

And then her stomach dropped as his deep baritone fell off those lips, "Yeah, I was looking for the Beverly Hilton."

_Fuck._

Swallowing thickly and without showing any hint of the disappointment that was rolling through her veins, she gave him a real smile and said, "Just keep going down Sunset, then hang a right on Beverly Hills and just stay straight, you can't miss it."

Plush lips quirked slightly while he nodded, "Thank you," and then his large hand gripped the stick shift and instead of roaring to life like the well-oiled machine all Lambos were known for being, there it went sputtering again.

It was too painful for her _not _to say something. Also, she was never one to hold her tongue, so why should she start now?

"Ugh, _seriously,_" Nikki bit out, rolling her eyes. "You are _never _gonna make it to The Hilton like that. You'll stall out, like, half way there; if you're lucky enough to even make it _that_ far."

* * *

Roman knew she was right, but he wasn't going to let her know that. Arching a pointed brow, he gave her a hard stare as he challenged, "And you can do better?"

A triumphant smirk curled at plump red lips. A cocky tone with a smooth edge poured from those lips, "Move over, pretty boy. Let me show you how it's done."

He couldn't stop the chuckle from rumbling inside his chest. And for the first time, grey eyes left twinkling chocolate to roam over ample curves. Spilling from the v-neck of a tight-fitting t-shirt were generous breasts which lead the way to shapely hips and a stretch of thick but toned thighs that were just barely visible do to vinyl knee high boots that nearly disappeared underneath an indecently short leather skirt.

"Of course," A purr left those lips, drenched in lust as suddenly he felt his chin being lifted so they were eye to eye as she leaned in further. "It's gonna cost ya."

Grey eyes rolled as he scoffed, "Cost me?"

As if she were insulted, her spine stiffened, only pushing those generous breasts further into his line of vision. "What do you think I'm doing out here? Looking for pretty boys in their flashy toys that they can't handle to help? Please. Stay stranded and then beg your rich Daddy or Mommy to send out one of their limos to rescue you. See if I care."

Backing away, his arm shot out and gripped the slender curve of her wrist before she could stomp off. "Wait..." Defeat was evident in that baritone as broad shoulders slumped. If he didn't make it to The Hilton in one piece, he'd never hear the end of it. And the last thing he wanted to deal with was a gloating Matt.

"How much?" He got out through gritted teeth and in an instant she was beaming.

"Looks like you're not just a pretty face! As for how much..." She tapped a manicured finger to her chin, pondering. "250 sounds reasonable to me."

"250?" He scoffed, shaking his head.

"Make it an even three and you've got yourself a deal."

"No thanks. I'll take my chances."

"Asshole." She spat as she turned on her heel to stomp away, not that he heard as he couldn't hear _anything_ beyond the car grinding its gears.

He sighed heavily as he found himself turning over his shoulder to where she had stopped mid-stomp. She was practically glowing as she smirked, and he knew it was time to admit defeat.

"Looks like I just made three hundred dollars, doesn't it, pretty boy?"

"I guess you did, didn't you?"

"I knew you'd see things my way."

* * *

Roman felt his strong brows burrowing down as he watched her slide into the driver's seat with ease. With a quick flick of her slender wrist, she had the mirror adjusted to her liking and smoothly pulled away from the curb. She reached out to turn on the radio, elegant fingers drumming on the steering wheel as she sung along to Beyonce` as if the car was _hers_ and not his father's pride and joy.

"You were right; you _can_ do better."

"An ex had a talent for hot wiring cars so I've driven a Lambo before." Nonchalant as if she was telling him the sky was blue as she swerved expertly around a corner and then slid easily into the valet area of the hotel just a few minutes later.

"Here we are." With a heart-stopping grin and then a valet was opening the door for her first and then for him.

"Thank you," Genuine as he reached into his wallet but she waived him off. "Don't sweat it. Consider it a freebie for being so fucking pretty, I might be getting jelly. Later."

There was_ this innate_ sexiness about her. If the definition of bombshell came with a picture, she would be plastered right next to the word. Those curves that could only be marked _dangerous_ were playing with his rational that was the only explanation for what he was about to do. That and the reward of seeing the view from the back as she stepped out of the car, her round ass on full display in that obscenely short leather skirt.

He swallowed as he felt heat surge in his veins.

"At least let me buy you a drink."

* * *

Nikki was the one swallowing now. She knew she should've just accepted the three hundred and walked away. But she went and got soft and gave him a freebie, and for what? Being so fucking pretty it should be illegal? Cause _damn! _Of course, in reality, he was so much_ more_ than fucking pretty. It was more like **_heart-stopping i think my ovaries just exploded resuscitate me sexy._**

Yum, she thought, on the verge of _actually_ fanning herself as she stole a glance at him once more.

Her tongue slipped from her lips as she took in the impressiveness of his frame. Even underneath the tailored shirt that was tucked into slacks, she could tell his body did not quit. All that was there was muscle. Muscle bulging everywhere. Especially his arms which rippled with it as they lazily crossed over a thick chest.

And then there were his eyes, which were grey. With warm silver swirling around the irises. And, ugh, his mouth... so criminal in its plushness and framed perfectly by the expertly trimmed goatee.

Her thighs clenched and she couldn't blame them.

Just like she couldn't blame herself for following him inside. Even though she would skin Cameron alive if she followed some random inside a hotel without the promise of a payment in Andrew Jacksons or Benjamins up front.

For the first time, ever, probably Nikki Bella found herself feeling self-conscious. She had never been inside the Beverly Hilton before. A swanky hotel filled with celebrities and the uber rich wasn't exactly a place clients frequented. She was so out of place in her low-cut t-shirt with her faux leather skirt and vinyl boots.

She felt her stomach churn and she wanted to run as fast as she could. She could feel the stares of the women in their Jimmy Choos and their Dolce dresses with their Chanel bags. Their noses were in the air and she knew what they were thinking. It was practically written on her forehead.

_Whore._

And then there were the lecherous stares of their husbands. Roaming over her every inch. Licking their chops like a lion stalking a gazelle.

She didn't know which made her feel _more _sick to her stomach.

"And I thought this was a classy establishment," She heard one of the stuck up ice queens say, nose in the air while her husband who was right next to her, couldn't tear his eyes away from her boobs. "Apparently the new ownership will let just _anything_ in. First Kim Kardashian and now street hussies."

She felt the urge to rear back and slap that Betty Draper wannabe, instead she felt a warm hand – large and strong – spanning the entire length of her back and tilting her head upwards grey eyes were staring back at her. Her stomach flip flopped in a way it hadn't since Dean's gritty tone first said her name, but quickly she willed the feeling away.

Feelings like a stomach flip flopping and a heart beating too fast only got you in trouble. And she didn't need trouble. She needed money.

* * *

"Give your best regards to your mother and your sisters. Tell them we hope to see them at this years Women in Business conference. And to your father and brother, we say our golf courses are always open. They just have to name their tee time. Please enjoy your stay at the Beverly Hilton, Mr. Reigns."

"Mr. Reigns, huh?" There went the charm, so easily slipping into the skin of the seductress as she twisted, so they were face to face, reaching out with a slim hand to toy with the top buttons of his shirt.

"My Pops and my older brother Matty are Mr. Reigns." He shook his head, stepping into the elevator as it dinged and without question, she followed. "I'm just Roman. Not that anybody listens when I tell them to cool out with that Mr. Reigns junk."

"You only like it when _the ladies_ call you, Mr. Reigns, I bet." Bold and lusty as perfect brows waggled up and down.

It was like being wrapped in velvet as his laughter rumbled low from that thick chest. Goosebumps sprung all over her skin. Yet she was instantly warmed as his grey eyes stared deeply into hers, as if they penetrated her skin, seeing everything underneath. A shudder whipped through her.

And there went that panty melting baritone, "What about you? You've got a name, too. Something pretty to go with your face."

_Oh_... There go her thighs clenching again. She wanted to say Nicole, something she hadn't been called since she was a little girl, it's like she was desperate to say it. Like there was this need, a hunger inside of her for him to say her name.

But, "Nikki," slipped from her lips and as the elevator dinged, signaling the reach of their destination, plush lips curved and then, in that deep baritone that oozed sex, "There ain't a better view of the city than from this terrace. You'll love it, Nikki."

He said something about a terrace, but all she heard were the five letters that made up her nickname. She was dizzy with want, and _fuck_, she wouldn't be surprised if her panties were drenched when she finally left. She would've spontaneously combusted if he called her Nicole.

Nikki found that Roman wasn't wrong. She couldn't imagine a better view of LA than the one this terrace created. It was totally cheesy and she'd never do it, but she felt like spinning around and spreading her arms as she screamed, "I'm Queen of the world!" ala` Leonardo DiCaprio's Jack Dawson from Titanic.

* * *

The way her chocolate eyes gleamed, twinkling like amber gems, made his stomach twist. Underneath that vixen she portrayed so well was an almost childlike innocence. It only added to her irresistible aura.

Glasses of whiskey clinked and for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from imagining what was underneath the tight-fitting polyester of her t-shirt and the leather of her skirt. Her skin glowed – almond and sunkissed, a combination tanning salons would kill to be able to recreate – and with those wild curls tumbling around slim shoulders and red lips, plump and open, it would be like seeing the art his mother filled their various homes with come to life.

**But better.**

"_Mr. Reigns_..." Purring but teasing, shooting straight to his dick, and _fuck._.. He turns away from the glittering city, nearly drowning in those chocolate amber gems and his dick only stiffens _more_ as she asks, "Are you here for business or pleasure?"

"Business," Smooth as ever cause he's not going to let her see what she can do to him. "Not that," Frustration slips into his tone as he pulls his hair out of the tie holding it in the tight bun at the nape of his neck. "Matty can't handle this," Fingers glide through the thickness of the black strands, fingers he won't admit he wishes were smooth and elegant with black lacquered nails. "But this business is major, so Pops wanted both of us here to close the deal."

* * *

Black velvet slithered through Nikki's mind as she watched Roman release his hair from the tie. She didn't imagine his hair being nearly as long as her own. Biting down on her lip, there was the urge rising inside to reach out and slip her fingers through the silky strands.

And then he said it, "You'd make this business more pleasurable."

Liquid heat poured at the apex of her thighs. Her panties were soaked and her thighs rubbed against each other wantonly.

Briefly, she remembered the feeling of his hand, warm and large spanning the entire width of her back and oh.. Yeah, those were _totally_ her nipples getting hard against the lace of her bra. She could only imagine what those hands were capable of. How easily those arms – large and bulging with impressive muscles – could lift her to where her legs would wind perfectly around the thickness of his trim waist.

And what he could do with that mouth...

Quickly, she was snapped back to reality. She wasn't Baby fooling around with the hot dance instructor at the Catskills. Or Sandy looking for a romp with a Greaser.

She was... she swallowed thickly, remembering that ice queen bitch's words from the lobby, and tears stung at her eyes. Tears she hadn't felt since the very first night she got paid $25 for a handjob in the back alley on Skid Row. Her stomach twisted and tightened, but she wouldn't let the sickening feeling show.

Instead, she arched a perfectly shaped brow, "I bet I would. I know what _you're_ getting out of this, Reigns, but what about _me_?"

Roman shook his head at her cocksure stance. Her arms folded under those generous breasts, pushing them up, as they nearly spilled forth from the v-neck of her t-shirt. Her hips were slanted just so, allowing for her hourglass shape – a shape women would shed blood to have for themselves, he knew – to be visible.

A smile played at his lips, "From tonight until next Sunday, all day and all night, _everything's_ in it for you."

"If I say yes to letting you have me all to yourself for a week, it's gonna cost you, pretty boy."

"Cost me?" He stroked his goatee thoughtfully and Nikki thought scathingly, _**you fucking smooth bastard**_ because all she imagined were those very fingers sinking past the neatly trimmed patch of hair to get to the very heart of her liquid heat and knowing exactly how to make her come harder than she ever had.

_Girl, _Cameron's tone was suddenly in her ear, _Do not sell yourself short! You know what you worth! Get it!_

"Six thousand," Came after some quick number crunching in her head.

"Four," There were his lips curling into a slow smirk and with him mirroring her stance, those arms – so big and with perfectly shaped muscles, bulging underneath silk fabric – she could only imagine how it felt to be staring at him in the board room.

Feeling insulted, her mouth fell open in offense, "Seven."

He didn't back down. "Five."

She had stepped to him, like she bet no one else had, going nearly nose to nose as she said, "Fifty five hundred."

"Deal."

Downing the rest of her whiskey, she sauntered past, sliding an elegant hand down the length of his chest, popping a few buttons along the way and he thought she had garnered a victory, so he told her, "I would've paid six."

Bright and airy giggles burst forth, as if champagne was being poured from those delectable lips. Turning on a chunky heel of her boots, she told him, tart as ever, "I would've stayed for four."


	2. Chapter 2

_a/n: omg, i totally did not imagine such a response to the first chapter of this fic. i had watched pretty woman recently and i couldn't get over how much vivan - julia roberts' character - reminded me of nikki; sassy, bright, sexy and sensual but a childlike wonder and brightness with an irresistible hint of vulnerability. roman as richard gere's edward just seemed like the perfect fit; handsome, cool and aloof, never imagining love is right around the corner. thank you so, so, so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. and, as always, i do have to thank my fic partner in crime __**dashinginconverse **__without her this would not exist. it's no accident her icon on this site is cm punk and mine is aj lee. she gets me and she deserves credit for this too._

* * *

**~*~chapter two~*~**

The next morning, Roman briefly wondered, as he tucked the black dress shirt into the black slacks, if last night had been a fever dream. Something created out of his imagination since he had been nothing but bored until... Then there was a flash of red at his feet, catching his eye at the exact moment, and he knew it was no dream.

Bending at the waist, he couldn't resist picking up the discarded item.

Honey and amber filled his nose and flashes of the night before came back.

The arch of a wonderfully smooth back. Wild curls tumbling all around slim shoulders. Beads of sweat making almond sunkissed skin shine like thousands of diamonds. Plump lips bruised and begging for kisses as they fell open, releasing the sweetest moans and filthiest of taunts.

Generous breasts bouncing freely. Tulip nipples peaked and straining.

Warm, wet heat aching for his fingers, for his dick.

And then... "_Roman... Roman..." _His name never sounding better.

When the polyester slipped from his hands, he didn't know. How long he'd been staring off into space, his dick now at attention and throbbing for her all over again, he didn't know that either.

All he knew was, slim arms were suddenly around his waist and there was the soft yet firm weight of generous breasts at his back. Then there was a breathless tone in his ear, "I could get used to this."

An elegant hand slid the length of his back before a palm squeezed a handful of his right ass cheek and as he spun, there she was, splayed out on the still rumpled bed and... _Oh._ Yeah, that was his dick jumping and his heart pounding. Wrapped in the white of his shirt and more covered than in her little outfit from the night before, she looked better, somehow. Sexier even.

"Cat got your tongue?" Smug, but she had every right to be. If he looked half as good in his own shirt, he'd be smug too.

"Your ex have a talent for stealing people's shirts too?"

"If it bothers you that much, I could..." An elegant hand slips between the shirt's folds, separating to reveal the smooth column of her neck, hinting at the beauty underneath. "_Take it off_," Husky like her voice was that only hours earlier when she was begging and needy and demanding, _**"Harder, faster, fuck, Roman. Fuck, fuck. Give it to me. Just like that. Fuck."**_

* * *

There went the usually pleasant sound of Georgia Tech's fight song, but now Roman felt the urge to fling his cell phone across the room, shattering the device into a million pieces. With strength he didn't know he possessed, two long strides had him across the room and reaching for the phone. He wasn't surprised when Matt's stressed out tone greeted him as soon as he hit the green connect button, "Where the fuck are you?! Did you even make it to The Hilton?! Are you at Cedar Siani because you crashed Dad's car and wound up in a ditch?!"

"Contain your ass," Dismissive as ever while rolling his eyes. "I'm at The Hilton and Dad's car is fine. I'll be there in twenty. Don't get your panties in a twist, Matty."

"_Contain my ass?!_ _Don't get my panties in a twist?! _You're nearly an hour late for our meeting with Hunter and Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley! These are not patient people, Roman! Get your ass here before they walk out and then you have to explain to Dad why this deal did not get done!"

"Dad shouldn't even be making deals with Hunter and Stephanie," Roman's tone was practically a growl as his teeth became grit. "Not after her douchebag Dad and her harpy mother tried to screw him out of the Michaels deal..."

"Don't start." Matt sighed heavily and Roman could see him pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't personal, it's business and this is a deal that's too good to pass up. No matter who's on the other end of the negotiations. Just get here."

The line went dead and amber and honey filled his nose once more. Fingers easily glided through his silken black mane as a soft kiss was pressed to the stern tendons of his strong neck.

"_That_ didn't sound good."

"Matty's always been a drama queen. It's cool. Don't worry. You have other things to worry about, anyway."

"Like what?"

"Buying clothes, for now."

"Buying clothes?"

A tilt of her head, curious like a kitten and there it was that allure of being sexy and childlike. Something she could pull off like no other woman he'd ever met.

"Buying clothes." He repeated, hand slipping into his pocket to produce a black Amex. "Don't worry about not being able to use it. Just call the office and they'll give you the authorization you need. The McMahons don't do anything half way. Including closing business deals. There's gonna be a cocktail party, some black tie gala, a polo match and several dinners. Rumor has it, they're gonna play up my Mom's love for opera and take us to the San Francisco opera house at the end of the week. You'll need at least two black tie dresses, a cocktail dress, some summer thing or whatever for the polo match and casual stuff for the dinners."

Nikki couldn't stop the widening of her eyes as he handed her the fabled credit card. It was like staring at a unicorn, to be honest. She almost didn't believe it was real. Even though she was holding the plastic in her palm.

Arching a smooth brow, she questioned, "So I just, what, like walk into Fred Segel or something and flash the plastic and instant dress? How do I know it's the right dress? It's not like I've ever been to a black tie gala. Or a cocktail party. Unless you count spring break in Cabo, and I bet you don't."

Roman laughed as he bent to tilt her chin upward. "You'll know it's the right dress. And if you don't, just ask a sales person. They work on commission and they'll be happy to assist once you flash the black."

Petulant and pouty, "So you're just going to leave?"

"Not without ordering breakfast. Get in the shower. Relax before you go out."

There was a note among several carts of room service. Messy scrawl relayed... **I didn't know what you'd like, so I got one of everything. Don't go too wild with the black. I gotta explain expenses to Pops, ya know?**

Nikki giggled, imagining how he would wink if he were here to tell her that. She felt lighter than she had in years. As if she could walk on air. And it wasn't because of how lush the carpet was under her bare feet. Grabbing a chocolate croissant, she flung herself onto the now freshly made bed and squealed as loud as she could, kicking her feet in the air.

Munching happily, she dug through her purse finding her cell phone and dialed Cameron's number.

"OH MY GOD, CAMMIE, YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHERE I AM!"

* * *

"Can I help you?" Snotty and obviously suspicious was in Nikki's ear as she looked at a pale pink Chanel dress after walking into the flag ship store of the iconic brand on Rodeo Drive.

The brunette's spine immediately stiffened, like a cat, ready to brandish its claws. Her stomach, in contrast, twisted uncomfortably, turning itself inside out. Turning around, she said, keeping her tone as calm as she could, "I'm just looking for now, but I'll let you know."

"Just looking," Disbelief was evident just like the sarcasm. "I'll bet you are." Was huffed under her breath as the leggy blonde stalked away.

The same thing happened at Dolce and Gabana except she _really_ wanted the blue crush velvet suit – a suit would be something different to wear to dinner, elegant but still sexy as she could imagine the jacket cinching her waist perfectly – which she was about to take to a dressing room, when it was snatched from her hands.

A brunette with a British accent said, "I'm sorry but I really don't think that's your style. Why don't you go down to Wilshire and find Forever 21?"

Herve Leger and Dior weren't any better.

Neither were Balenciaga or Jason Woo.

* * *

As high as she had been when she was kicking her feet and squealing with Cameron, she had never felt lower as she trudged back into the hotel's lobby on the verge of tears. Her shoulders shook with unheard sobs as she slumped into one of the high backed chairs, tears rolling down her cheeks and her mascara becoming streaked.

"What's up with the water works?" A warm but raspy tone is Nikki's ear, making her head jerk up.

Big cocoa eyes, puppy dog like, she thought idly were in her line of albeit blurred vision from her tears. She arched a brow in a silent question. Her answer came smoothly as a hand was thrust in her direction, "Seth Rollins, at your service, and you must be Nikki, Roman's guest."

"Is _that_ supposed to mean something to me, Cruella?"

He laughed at the reference to the streak of blonde that mixed with his otherwise brown hair, neatly pulled back into a ponytail. "Rome and I went to college together at Georgia Tech. Or well, it was college for me; it was undergraduate school for him. Anyway, he was always going to fall in line and run Daddy's business once Sika finally took a step back. Probably because Patti was threatening castration if he didn't let Rome and Matt do what he'd been grooming them to do since birth. I, on the other hand, never had the affinity for repairing cars like my Dad. I only liked driving them. So I got into the management business and here I am. Before Rome took off to his business meeting this morning, he let me know you were staying with him."

She huffed, fingers sifting through her hair. "It's none of your business. You're Roman's friend, not mine."

"Hey," Gentle as long fingers slid under her chin, turning her back to him. "Any friend of Rome's is a friend of mine. Tell me what happened."

The combination of black silk – his pocket square – dabbing at the tear streaks on her cheeks and with those big eyes staring at her, makes her break down. There's something trusting about those eyes. Something that tells her he won't be judging her like so many others in his position would.

There's a warm smile on cute lips, making him look a proud little boy almost, and she_ has_ to laugh. "I know just the person you need to see."

* * *

Roman wanted to punch Hunter Hemsley in that smug bastard mouth of his. He could feel his jaw grinding as he listened to Hunter talk about his vision for the impending merger of Reigns Consolidated and McMahon Industries. It didn't help that his wife, Stephanie, was preening as she listened with rapt attention.

He felt Matt's hand on his wrist, nails digging briefly, in a silent plea to stay calm.

"The business world will never be the same," Hunter finished, gravel tone filled with pride.

"More like _your face_ is never gonna be the same, when I..." There was Matt, preventing Roman from lunging for the older man. "Nothing's finalized," He reminded his younger brother. "Dad and Vince haven't signed on the bottom line. Don't do anything stupid to fuck this up."

"Are you listening to him?!" Roman all but roared, still trying to escape Matt's hold. "This isn't a merger! It's a takeover, and if you," He finally got past his older brother, now nose to nose with Hunter. "Think I'm gonna let that happen, you better check yourself, Hemsley."

"Check myself?" Hunter didn't flinch, only straightening the lapels of his suit jacket, almost as if he were bored. "Maybe," He reached to pat Roman's head but the younger, swatted his hand away. "It's _you_ who should be checking themselves, Junior."

That gravel voice was patronizing him and the youngest Reigns' blood began to boil, simmering underneath his skin and somehow, the older man did reach out to Roman's head, which made the younger man grab the older's suit, nearly lifting him from his feet. "You touch me again, and I'm gonna break you in half. And if you fuck with my family's business, you'll end up in the ground."

Shoving Hunter to the ground, Roman stepped over his body and stormed from the room.

Matt sighed heavily pushing his fingers through his hair. Turning to Stephanie, he said, "This deal better not change once Vice and Linda get here to close with my Mom and Dad and Alma and Cassandra. Reigns Consolidated is our entire lives. It's our legacy. Something I know, Stephanie, you understand. If one thing changes, I won't stop Roman from putting your husband in the ground. I'll even be there with the shovel."

"We're all rational people, Matthew," Stephanie's tone cool as the ice of her eyes. "Except for that hot head of a brother of yours. Control him and this deal won't have to change. I will not have my daughters' future jeopardized by a toddler throwing a temper tantrum because he doesn't get his way."

* * *

Nikki could feel the stares as she and Seth stepped into the hotel's boutique. Those eyes – narrowed in disgust – from the ice queen bitches, burning holes into her skin, staring right through her as if she wasn't even there. Like she wasn't a person. As if she were something stuck on the red soles of her Louboutins and to be thrown away.

Spinning on her heel, she collided with Seth's strong frame. He held her steady and big cocoa brown eyes softened as his raspy tone said, "Don't worry about them. Just trust me. Remember," Full lips curled into a reassuring grin, warm and friendly, as if he didn't know _what _she was, as if she _wasn't_ a hooker. "Any friend of Rome's is a friend of mine."

"Oh, come on, we both know I'm not Roman's _friend_..."

"Romie's staying at the hotel and you didn't tell me?!" It's almost a screech Nikki hears from behind her, making her turn to see a petite woman, whose soft features of her face are contorted into an impressive scowl, practically stomping toward her and Seth. "How could you _not_ tell me?! And why are you just _now_ bringing his guest into the boutique?! All that bleach is obviously seeping into valuable brain sells, Sethie. You should see a doctor about it. Anyway," Instantly, she's bright and bubbly, giving Nikki a slow blooming smile across nude heart-shaped lips. "Don't tell me; you need at least two cocktail dresses, a few black tie appropriate evening gowns, something more casual and maybe even a suit?"

Nikki's eyes went wide before narrowing. Had Roman done_ this_ before? Picked up a hooker and paid them for more than sex for a week?

She doesn't get a chance to ask, before the brunette tells her with an affectionate roll of her eyes, "Despite being a giant Mama's Boy, Romie isn't one for commitment. Of course I don't blame him for being skiddish. Nearly - no, basically - all the women he meets are after his money. And they definitely do not make it a secret. They foolishly think he's just a pretty face and that if they get their claws into them, he'll give up his family's legacy. Not that I would know anything about that. Union City, New Jersey, my hometown wasn't _exactly_ teaming with billionaires for little black widows like me to sink their teeth into."

A smooth brow arches from the bustier woman, "Black widows?"

Seth shakes his head, soft smile crossing his lips, which makes Nikki's stomach twist uncomfortably. There's something in the way those cocoa brown eyes are staring into the tiny brunette's soft brown that makes her wish and hope and want, and she can't do any of those things.

Wishing and hoping and wanting only leaded to trouble. And trouble never ended well.

"Stop calling yourself _that_, April." His teeth are grit, grinding ever so slightly making Nikki think they've had this conversation before.

"Wasn't I, though? I sucked _everything_ out of Daniel, which is how I ended up on your couch in the first place, remember?" Little shoulders slump as something dark crosses those soft features which were so serene moments before. "When we were together, I did what I always do," Eyes are downcast. "Wanted too much, needed too much..."

"Don't," Strong fingers tuck underneath her chin and then move along to map the curve of a high cheekbone. Daniel couldn't handle you, you have a mind of your own, a will that's all your own and it had nothing to do with you wanting too much or needing too much. He wanted someone like him, and you weren't and when you wouldn't conform to his whims, he took the chicken shit way out and blamed you. Dolph was just a douche. And John?" Scoffing, the four letters spat out bitterly. "He took advantage of you when you were at your lowest. So you've had some bad luck with guys, that doesn't make you a black widow. Or mean you're needy. Or that you want too much. It just means they all suck."

Fingers with black lacquered nails curl around the larger, strong fingers on her cheek and Nikki feels like she's intruding on a private moment. That she should step back and leave, retreating back to the safety of Roman's hotel suite. Where it's just him. Where no one can look at her like she doesn't exist. Or more accurately like she's not worthy of existing.

The moment is broken, by what Nikki doesn't know, and suddenly April is staring at her with warmth in her soft brown eyes and a little hint of mischief lingering around the irises. Her smile curling at nude heart-shaped lips is practically blinding as she hops in place, clapping her hands excitedly. "I know _exactly_ what you need. Romie isn't going to know what hit him when he sees you."

And then she's being dragged away from Seth, April grabbing for her hand and skipping among the racks of the lush designer fabrics.


	3. Chapter 3

_a/n: tbh i thought this chapter was going to go one way, but it went a different way. i like the way it turned out, i just thought it was going to end up in a different place. it's shorter than the previous two chapters, but i think it sets up nikki meeting both roman's family and hunter and steph nicely. the next chapter is going to take place at dinner and be longer. once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed this. i really do appreciate it, more than you know._

**~*~chapter three~*~**

"I thought you were gonna buy clothes?" Roman was baffled as Nikki stepped into the suite, one lone garment bag in hand.

"I don't want to talk about it." Cheeks heating up and eyes downcast, words speedily leaving plump lips, as she moves past him, desperate to forget everything that happened earlier in the day.

"You don't want to talk about what? Clothes?"

"It doesn't matter. I got a dress for dinner tonight, isn't that what matters?"

"I gave you my black card, and you came back with one dress? How is that even possible?"

She shook her head, desperate not to talk about happened earlier. And honestly, she thought with April's enthusiasm at the boutique would've rubbed off on her, bringing back the giddy feeling she had when she called Cameron, but it didn't. The petite woman had tried to get Nikki to try on more than the lone dress she ended up buying, but the brunette didn't want to, insisting this one dress was enough for now.

She knew even if she walked out wearing the dress that it wouldn't change anything. _**Whore **_would still be printed on her forehead, because wasn't that old saying true? A leopard can't change its spots? A zebra can't hide its stripes?

Even if you put her in fancy clothes and did her hair, she was _still_ a whore, wasn't she?

Nikki sighed heavily, hating how her shoulders were starting to slump and how she felt like she was being crushed by an invisible weight. Just remembering those snotty salesgirls at every store, made her want to curl into a ball and have Roman stroke her hair the way her Mom did when she was a little girl who cried over thunderstorms.

Instead, she looked at him, pitifully – because she couldn't put on her usual facade of bravado and seduction – and murmured, "I didn't buy any clothes. If it wasn't for your friend, Cruella and his little partner in crime, April, the manager of the boutique here, I wouldn't even have this dress."

"_Cruella_?" A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. "I'll have to file that one away for later. I'm sure Rollins _loved_ you calling him that. How did you even end up at the boutique here? I figured you would've been cruising Rodeo Drive and Wilshire Boulevard. And even if you were only at the boutique, that still doesn't explain how you only walked away with one dress. You had a fucking black Amex on you."

"I said," Teeth grit and then flopping back onto the bed in a huff, arms folding under generous breasts. "I don't want to talk about it. I'll wake up early tomorrow and get a whole bunch of dresses and whatever from April tomorrow. Ugh," A grown of frustration, fingers sifting through glossy highlighted strands, roughly. "You know what?"

The pouting disappears and suddenly, through his pants, her elegant hand is cupping his length. Slowly, up and down, in a torturous manner, she strokes until his dick is standing at attention. Swiftly the button of his slacks is popped open, his head lulling back while fighting a moan, as she takes care of the zipper and then he's engulfed in the warmth of her hand when she pushes past the fabric of his boxer briefs, delving inside with no warning.

A slow pump of his length, makes him buck against her fist, his world seeping into a haze of lust.

"Talking," Pure seduction husked into his ear. "Is overrated. So how about we stop talking? This," Lips sear against the skin of his strong neck, turning his skin into pure fire. "Is _a lot _more fun."

* * *

He doesn't know where it comes from, the resistance, and he knows it shocks her when he grabs her wrist, practically ripping her hand away from his dick. She's staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide with disbelief.

He pushes his fingers through his hair and tells her, "Somethin' went down when you were shopping, and I ain't gonna let it go until you tell me what."

She rolls her eyes, tongue tart as ever, as she remarks, "And if I don't tell you what happened, you'll what? Pull out of our deal? I don't think so. Cause if you think I won't walk out of here with my fifty five hundred, even if it's only been a day, you better have Cruella toss me out on my ass now."

"No one's tossing you out on your ass. Just fucking tell me what went down."

"You want to know what went down?! You want to know?! Those snotty stuck up bitches, like the one, who called me trash the first night I walked in here with you, wouldn't let me try anything on! If I touched something, they were on me like white on rice! Those salesgirls wouldn't spit on me if I had been on fire in one of those stores! So even when I went to the boutique and April was all excited about finding me clothes, I couldn't get excited about it. All I could think about was them. And how even if I was wearing some fancy dress, they would still think I was nothing but some cheap whore. They were so," She lost steam toward the end, tears streaming down her face, and her shoulders shaking while her voice turns into a pitiful whisper. "Mean to me, and I can't forget it."

Nikki hates how she sounds like a little girl talking about having her pigtails pulled or being pushed into the mud by a boy on the playground, but she doesn't know how else to vocalize what happened. She swipes at her eyes and starts to turn away, not wanting Roman to see her like this, but he grips her wrist, making it impossible.

His hand loosens its grip, becoming tender as fingers gently stroke her skin. Then his other is weaving into her hair, gripping tight to make her unable to look away from him.

His grey eyes are doing that thing where she feels like his stare – warm and that silver around his irises so entrancing, she can't even blink – is penetrating her. Like she's naked, even though she isn't. Like he can see past every wall she's ever put up, every snarky remark, the seductress she portrays to see _her_.

To see Stephanie Nicole Colace-Garcia.

Not Nikki Bella.

"Clean yourself up," Low and menacing, a timbre of fear curling at her spine. "Do your makeup right and put on the dress April gave you for tonight, we got money to spend."

* * *

Roman regrets his stance, instantly, when Nikki emerges from the suite's lavish bathroom. He doesn't know whether he should kiss April's feet or have her fired. It's like Nikki has _literally_ been poured into the black lace. Every seam molded to those dangerous curves in perfection. As if no other woman could wear the dress. Like it was sewn around her body.

Her generous breasts were on display by the dress's deep v and its hemline revealed nearly the entire length of her shapely legs, and he could only imagine what the view looked like from behind. He knew they'd have to walk side by side or he would have to be in front of her cause the view of her ass that wouldn't quit in _this dress_ would be the death of him.

His dick was back to throbbing in his pants, but then he remembered how she had looked at him fifteen minutes before, chocolate eyes like a newborn deer, those plump lips trembling and her whisper so pitiful "_they were mean to me_," and yeah, his dick can wait.

For now.

"Well..." Strangely self-conscious as she plucks at one of the dress's straps, hopefulness in those chocolate gems.

"You're gorgeous." So honest her stomach flip flops and there's this little tug at his heart when her red lips slowly bloom into this beaming smile and the brightness he remembers breaks through the hopefulness of her chocolate gems.

"There was this blue crush velvet suit at Dolce and Gabana that I _really _wanted to try on..." Wistful as they drive down Rodeo Drive and fuck, if she doesn't stop biting her damn lip, he's gonna make her pull over so he can give her a fucking reason to bite her lip.

"You're gonna do more than try it on, it's gonna be hanging in the suite's closet."

* * *

Even wearing the expensive dress and her arm locked with Roman's, Nikki still feels like everyone in the store knows just hours ago, she was in faux leather and vinyl boots and a cheap t-shirt. That **_whore_ **is written on her forehead and they can see it. Bold black letters brandishing the word. An obvious contrast to her almond skin.

She squeezes his impressive arm, grabbing the thick muscle for purchase, as the same petite curvaceous brunette who snatched the suit from her, comes into view. The smile on the brunette's overly painted pink lips is obviously fake. It's obvious that she senses money when she looks Roman up and down, taking in the tailored suit, the RayBans covering his grey eyes and the platinum watch that adorns his right wrist.

"She took the suit out of my hands before I could try it on," Nikki whispers in his ear.

Roman's body stiffens, cut jaw grinding subtly. He slips his sunglasses from his eyes, smoothly tucking them into the front of his shirt. Like Nikki he can tell the brunette is fake as a two dollar bill. He's used to it, though. The too sweet voice, the too bright smile, stretching the cheeks and the faux brightness in their eyes, like they're just _so happy _to help you.

It makes him sick.

"Save your spiel, here's what you need to know," Nikki feels her blood _instantly_ turn to liquid heat, all of it rushing quickly to pool at the apex of her thighs. "I'm here to spend an obscene amount of money on_ this gorgeous lady_ on my arm." Her stomach flip flops. "Whatever she wants, she gets."

"Of course." Stuttering and a vigorously nodding her head. "Come this way, Miss, there's a gorgeous red halter dress we have that will compliment your skin beautifully."

"Actually," Nikki's lips curve into a sickly sweet smile. "I saw a blue crush velvet suit when I was here _earlier_," She emphasizes the word. "And I'd like to try it on. You know," She bats her eyelashes furtively. "If you don't mind. I'm a size four, by the way."

* * *

While Nikki is trying on everything, Roman sits in a chair by the dressing rooms, messing around on his phone. He sends Seth and April thank you texts for helping Nikki. He crunches some numbers, doing his double checking regarding Hunter's proposal about the merger. Leaves messages with his sisters, letting them both know he'll be bringing a guest to dinner tonight and to let their mother know.

He's just about to go up another level on Candy Crush, when there's a seductive coo in his ear, "This time, I'd rather have _you_ zip me up."

Following Nikki into the spacious dressing room, he expects her to turn so he can zip the silk that's covering her body, but instead, she lets it fall; revealing every inch of her body. She's completely bare, not even shoes are on her feet, and he swallows thickly.

She taps her chin and clicks her tongue as she moves around him in a circle, hips swaying side to side along with her perfect ass. "One of us," She's on the tips of her toes so she can reach his ear. "Is wearing too many clothes," Breathless giggling. "And I don't think it's me..." Husky and hot, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear as she murmurs, "_Mr. Reigns_."

It happens in an instant, gripping that tiny waist and lifting her with ease so she can lock those luscious legs around his thick waist, and then he's pushing himself into the hilt of her. A moan of pure pleasure is ripped from plump lips, head thrown back to reveal the delicious slope of her swan like neck, which his mouth feasts on like a starving man.

Curvaceous hips match strong hips thrust for thrust as sweat pours onto their skin.

She looks so good like this, grinding down on his length, generous breasts bouncing, teeth sinking into her lip as red nails rake along his back. They dig into the firm cheeks of his ass, pushing him in further each time he pulls out, each time going in sweeter and hotter than the next, like being burned from the inside out.

_"Fuck,_" Roars from his lips, mixing with a breathless, _"Roman,"_

"You look so good like this," She doesn't need to know, he's pretty sure she knows. How can she not? But for a reason, he can't explain, he has to tell her. "God fucking damn," He husks out, biting down on her shoulder, then licking the sweat from her skin. "Give it to me, Nikki. Just let go."

The whole fucking world stops, he swears, when her walls squeeze like the tightest, warmest and wettest vice around his dick. He couldn't tell anyone his god damn name if they asked. All he knows, all he feels is her.

He didn't think it could get better, but she's right there, milking him for everything. Letting him fill her until he's spent.

"Holy fucking shit," She gasps, panting heavily, as she leans in to press her forehead against his.

His laughter agrees with her sentiment and as he raises his head, trying to steal a kiss, she turns and his lips – instead of meeting those irresistible looking plump lips – touch the skin of her jaw. He arches a brow and she slides off of him, making him groan, because he misses her sweet, warm wetness already.

"Uh, yeah," She's pulling her discarded underwear up the length of those shapely legs and then she's hooking her bra and putting her arms through the straps, covering her breasts and he's groaning again. "I forgot to tell you; you don't kiss me, I kiss you. Unless it's on the cheek. You can kiss me there. But I take charge if we're gonna kiss on the mouth."

"Oh, yeah?" He moves to reach for his boxer briefs, tangled among their mix of clothes, but she swats his hand away.

"Why are you in such a hurry to get dressed? You don't think I want to enjoy the view a little bit longer? I mean, seriously, pretty boy, have you seen yourself? Why do you even wear clothes? It's, like, a crime, honestly that you can't walk around naked."

"I could say the same about you."

Her laughter is like chiming bells as she slowly slides the black lace over those curves. Fluffing her hair, she pivots in the mirror, taking in her reflection from every angle.

His arms wind around her waist, bending so his chin rests on her shoulder. Then one of his hands leaves her waist, slipping underneath the dress' hemline and slowly, he pulls her panties down, making her gasp as her mouth falls open from his audacity.

"What are you doing?!" She hisses.

"You're not gonna be needing these until dinner." Husky and it's like she's drowning in pure liquid heat, like she hadn't just been fucked so hard minutes before.


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n: i honestly didn't expect to go this long between updates, but then my computer needed to be fixed and i wrote two one shots before getting back to this. once again, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and favorited. i never would have expected the kind of response i've gotten on this story. it means a lot._

* * *

**~*~chapter four~*~**

Alma and Cassandra both sigh heavily as they listen to the identical messages that they received from their baby brother. He informed both of them that he would be bringing a guest to dinner with the McMahons and Hunter and Stephanie. They both felt their jaws subtly grind as they heard his familiar baritone say, "tell ma, okay?" which is how both messages ended.

_That little bastard_, they both thought scathingly.

Anyone who knew Patricia Reigns knew that her greatest want in this world was for her youngest child – _her precious baby boy_ – Roman to settle down with a nice girl and to give her grand-babies. Never mind that her three oldest children Matt, Cassandra and Alma had done just _that_; settled down and given her grand-babies. Nooooooo _that_ didn't matter at all. What mattered was Roman settling down and having babies.

It saddened their mother that at every holiday or family gathering their was another girl on his arm. Never the same one twice.

"I say we cut off his hair," Cassandra, the younger of the two, remarked. "Right there," Her plump lips twisted into a deadly smile. "At the dinner table, no less. I'll put a pair of scissors in my purse and then, snip, snip at the table."

"Stop," Alma chided, shoving her sister. "You're _not _cutting Roman's hair off at the dinner table. You're thirty three years old, Cassandra, not twelve."

"Oh, come on, Alma! He did it again! He's making us tell Mom about the latest floozy he's bringing to dinner! And then we get to be the bad guys cause she's going to look at us all sad and broken because her baby boy can't keep his dick in his pants and wants to spread it around!"

"Cassandra Leila Reigns!"

"What?" Cassandra was unapologetic as she pointed at her elder sister. "You know damn well what I said is the truth. It's not something Mom would _ever_ want to hear about her precious baby boy, but it's the cold hard reality. Roman is _determined _not to settle down, and honestly," Cassandra's fire was gone, her lips turning into a frown as she pushed her fingers through voluminous raven curls. "Who can blame him? After everything he went through with Maxine and Aksana, why would he take that risk to open himself up again?"

Alma could only nod solemnly. Her baby sister raised a good point. Which was the exact point their mother failed to realize because of her intense "my baby boy needs to give me grand babies" fever.

The other point their mother failed to realize was her baby boy was a target for women looking for a free ride in this world.

And it didn't help that he was so strikingly handsome and knew how to carry himself. He – like everyone in their family – presented themselves like they had money. Not in a flashy way, per say, but it was obvious to anyone – especially a gold digger – that he had the money to provide them with their every whim and desire. No matter the expense.

Then Aksana and Maxine happened and _everything_ about him shifted. Both women knew all Roman longed for was to settle down the way Matt had, to find the love of a good woman, have a football team of kids and eventually have two matching rocking chairs on a porch.

And then those two gold digging harpies ruined it all, ruined their brother.

Turned him into someone they didn't recognize, someone that wasn't the man their parents had groomed him to be since they brought him home from the hospital on that warm May day.

His trust was irrevocably broken. Shattered, honestly. He withdrew into himself, becoming aloof and only focusing on the business. Women were suddenly interchangeable. Each one similar to the last. Not much going on upstairs, a bland cookie cutter personality; either an aspiring actress type or a swimsuit/lingerie model.

But he couldn't live like that forever. It was a lonely existence, going from woman to woman like that, and one he didn't deserve.

He was too good of a man for that.

Cassandra looped an arm around Alma's shoulders, pulling her in close, as she let out another heavy sigh. "Eventually he'll grow up."

Alma let out a hollow burst of laughter. "I _know_ you don't believe that. So," She put on her best smile. "How do we break the news to Mom?"

* * *

A warm scent of coconut mixing with jasmine and the heady note of vanilla hit Roman's nose as soon as he opened the bathroom door. He fought the urge to breathe it in, knowing it would soon be clinging to Nikki's smooth sunkissed almond skin. He was struck by laughter beginning to rise from his chest to his throat as he heard her singing loudly along with some pop song that he didn't know while soaking in the bathroom's large claw foot tub.

_That's big enough for two_ was whispered into his ear, as if she were standing right behind him, and he swallowed thickly but quickly dismissed the fictional whisper. They had dinner to get to.

Bending, he rolled the sleeve of his grey silk shirt up to his forearm before dipping his hand into the warm – slowly turning lukewarm – water and splashing the beauty, making her sputter and glare, perfectly shaped eyebrows narrowing.

"Hey," Red lips pouting and he just smiles before rising to his feet, "Sorry to interrupt your performance, but if you don't get outta there, we're gonna be late. You'll also turn into a prune."

"I'll show you a prune, Reigns." Her nose high in the air, haughtiness in her tone before she sticks out her tongue, making his chest shake with laughter.

"Wanna check for wrinkles?" Husky, wanton and purposefully breathless in his ear, and _fuck._

There she goes, spinning on a dainty foot, giving him a full view of her voluptuous frame, little droplets of water shimmering deliciously on her skin and it's all he can take not to grab her. He, somehow, finds the self control he needs to exercise because if the moment his fingers close around an elegant wrist, they _definitely _won't be going to dinner.

Fingers push through his hair, as he breathes through his nose, practically demanding that his dick cool the fuck out and he says, "Maybe later."

Airy and triumphant giggles ring in his ear and he leaves the bathroom, so she can get dressed but mostly so he can regain his self-control that is desperately clinging to a thread, the urge to touch her making his blood grow thick and hot in his veins.

* * *

Roman didn't know what to expect when the door to the bathroom opened and Nikki stepped through. He swallowed thickly at the sight of her. More covered than he had seen her, his breath was still stolen from his lungs. The deep blue of the crushed velvet suit off set her skin beautifully and the jacket cinched her waist perfectly, somehow, making it appear smaller than it already was.

She nervously shifted from one pencil thin heeled foot to the other, self-consciously smoothing her hands over the suit and adjusting the black bandeau top she wore underneath, teeth sinking into her lip as she chewed on the flesh, peering at him from under hooded lashes.

"Is it okay?" Soft spoken but rushed at the same time. "Should I change? I mean, what kind of dinner is this, anyway? I should probably change, huh? Are we going to be late if I change? Ugh, you should just go alone. I mean, seriously, are you really going to take _me_ to this dinner? I don't know the difference between a salad fork and a cocktail fork!"

"I don't give a damn if you know the difference between a salad fork and a cocktail fork." His voice is light and there's a warm feeling curling at her spine, then something shifts in his grey eyes, turning them from pale silver to deep, hardened steel and now there's nothing but _heat_ engulfing her body.

And after his eyes shift, his voice shifts as well. Low and rumbling, lust coating every syllable, "Don't you fucking dare change out of this suit. It's gonna take all the self-control I got to keep my hands off of you."

She doesn't know how she's standing. She's sure her legs are jelly, and she knows if one fingertip brushed against her hand, she would surely melt.

"So what kind of dinner is this, anyway?" Nikki wondered as they walked off the elevator, her hand touching the crook of his elbow.

"McMahon Industries," Gruff sounding as they make their way through the lobby of the hotel. "My Pops' company, Reigns Consolidated, is planning to merge with them. That's what my family's business is; merging companies or just straight taking them over. Vince McMahon, who's still principal owner of McMahon Industries – even though, his daughter Stephanie and her husband Hunter," Jaw subtly grinding at the name. "Run it primarily is gonna be there along with his wife Linda and then Stephanie and Hunter as well."

"Oh..." Roman stopped when he felt her nails dig into the fabric of his suit's jacket. "Don't be nervous..."

"Seriously?" He was cut off by her sharp tone, but his resolve didn't falter. Gently, he tilted her chin upwards, "You don't need to be nervous..."

"How can you say that? You know all about companies and mergers and whatever! I don't know any of that stuff, so what I'm just supposed to sit there and look pretty? Is that it?"

"Did I tell you, you're supposed to sit there and look pretty? All I'm telling you is not to be nervous because you don't have any reason to be. You're not some airhead. Believe me, I've brought a few to dinners like this, so I know an airhead when I see one. Talk about what you do know; whatever that is. Like, cars."

"Cars?"

"You know more about cars than I do. If it wasn't for you, baby girl, I would still be sputtering up and down Hollywood Boulevard and you know it."

"You would, wouldn't you?"

And just like that, the swagger he remembers from the first night they met, is back.

* * *

"Mr. and Mrs. Reigns?" The maitre de greeted as they stepped into the restaurant.

Roman didn't correct him and Nikki felt her skin flush but didn't say anything as she let her smooth fingers intertwine with his broad ones while they were lead to their table.

Her eyes glanced around the opulent restaurant, not quite believing, that she was actually here – in a place like the Beverly Hilton – and on a handsome man's arm, for everyone to see, instead of being snuck in through the back by a married john. Her eyes found a focal point, settling on, the row of aquariums lining the furthest wall in the back and she felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders, remembering how Brie would always drag her to see the fish when they would take field trips to the San Diego Zoo or their Pop Pop would bring them on the weekends.

The beautifully colored fish reminded her of a time when she had no worries, when she was free to believe that dreams did come true. When she hugged tightly to her pillow and dreamed of fairytales. Before everything changed. Before when she was one half of a whole. And usually she couldn't let that feeling go – the phantom limb thing she heard about on Dr. Oz when she and Cameron managed to get a clear picture on their beat up tv for an hour – usually it haunted her every second of every day... at least until Roman came sputtering down Hollywood Boulevard.

"Roman," An impossibly warm and gentle tone broke through Nikki's reverie. A beautiful older woman with blonde hair cut fashionably short and pretty blue eyes stood from the table, her smile practically blinding as she opened her arms wide, clearly waiting for him to step into them.

"Ma," Adorably sheepish and Nikki fought the urge to giggle as he bent forward to be folded into her arms. At the same time, the brunette was also fighting the urge to jab the handsome man in the stomach as he rose back to his full height after breaking the hug. She thought she was just here to schmooze the McMahons, not meet his mother, too.

Then her dark eyes flickered to the other four people sitting in the large booth. One of the two men sitting was clearly Roman's father. She could tell because they both shared the same stance; proud, broad shoulders always squared and set, never slouching. He obviously inherited that quintessentially handsome chiseled jaw from the man as well. She bet the elder Reigns was a lady killer back in his day just like his boy. Next to the elder Reigns sat the man she guessed to be Matt, Roman's older brother. Just with shorter hair, but the same imposing build and straight nose.

Two women sat two their right. Both of them were strikingly beautiful in this exotic way. Skin the color of caramel, such a sharp contrast to their inky black hair that fell in matching straight curtains to their shoulders.

One was older which was obvious as she dressed less flashy than the other. She wore a simple black dress with a square neckline while the younger was wearing red and favored a strapless dress and jewelry; gold dangling from her ears and wrapped around her wrists.

"Everyone," There was the feeling of his hand hovering just above the small of her back, making Nikki release the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "This is Nikki. Nikki," Grey eyes flashed her way, warm and inviting, making her spine loosen ever so slightly. "This is my Mom, Patricia and my Dad, Sika. These are my sisters, Alma and Cassandra and my brother, Matt."

"Hi." A small waive. "So..." A soft press of a large hand to the small of her back, encouraging and then she feels her lips quirk into a charming grin, that for once isn't forced. "I don't know if Roman told you," Teasing as she locks eyes with Sika. "But if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have made it to The Hilton and _your _Lambo wouldn't have made it back to the house."

"Oh, really?" Intrigue is written all over the older man's tone as he arches a pointed brow at his youngest son.

"C'mon, baby girl," Once again, neither notices the term of endearment. Or how easily it flows. As if he's called her that for years. "You gotta throw me under the bus like that before dinner?"

"It's a great story, babe," Manicured fingers trailing along that chiseled jaw, eyelashes fluttering adoringly. "And I think it's the perfect time to tell it. Besides, how many of your girlfriends before me, actually knew how to drive a stick shift?"

"They were lucky if they knew how to work a microwave." Cassandra grumbled, wincing toward the end when Alma jabbed her in the stomach.

"This," Matt's grin was the definition of shit-eating. "I gotta here."

"Is that how you two met? You rescued my baby boy from his own pig-headed stubbornness?" Patricia's warm tone came next. "Well, now, honey," Overly sweet as she strokes her husband's hand. "Doesn't _that_ sound familiar?"

"Told you," Confident and warm in her ear, sending tingle after tingle down her spine. "That you didn't have anything to be nervous about. You got them eating out of the palm of your hand, and that ain't an easy thing to do, believe me."

"Thanks." There's a flush rising to her cheeks, and _god_, had she ever blushed this much in her life?

"Don't tell me," An authoritative but still feminine voice breaks the flow of conversation causing everyone's heads to turn. "You've started pouring the wine without us, Patricia?"

"Linda," There's a strain Nikki can hear in the voice of Roman's mother and suddenly her stomach is tight.


End file.
